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“He’s damaging your home?” Her incredulous look made it clear she thought he was insane.
“Guess I need to find somewhere else to live.” He gave her a hot look, heavy with meaning. “Got any ideas?”
She flushed pink, making him smile wickedly. There was another crash.
“I can’t believe you’re sitting here doing nothing when a madman is trashing your RV. Do you have so much money you don’t care when it’s wasted?”
“It isn’t wasted.” He pointed across the field. “Look.”
Abby looked where he pointed and spotted a camera trained on the producer. She stilled in confusion. “Is this part of your documentary?”
“Nope—the show’s been cancelled, sugar. The producer isn’t happy about it.” He turned to Mitch. “How much do you reckon it will cost me to make the footage as public as possible?”
“Want me to go find out?”
“If you don’t mind. Add this service to my bill.”
“Smart ass,” Mitch grumbled, but he pushed to his feet and sauntered over in the direction of the cameraman.
“This will ruin his career.” Abby watched the motorhome crumple under the assault.
“We can only hope,” Flynn said as he finished off his beer.
???
Abby leaned into Flynn. “You know there’s a duck in my downstairs bath.”
“Aye, but she’s on the mend. She won’t be there long.”
“You’re just a big softie, Flynn.” Abby nuzzled the point where his neck met his shoulder, breathing the musky scent of him in deeply.
“Don’t tell anyone,” Flynn whispered.
“Flynn Boyle,” a voice shouted. “I’m going to ruin you. You’ll wish you were dead. I’m going drag your name through the mud. I’m going to sue you for every penny you have. I’m going to...”
Flynn looked completely unconcerned as he turned his back on the weaselly producer who was jumping up and down in the middle of the field. Everything out of the odious little man’s mouth was being taped for the viewing pleasure of the British public. Good. It was the least he deserved. Once the thought was in her mind, she wondered exactly when she’d become so bloodthirsty.
Mitch sauntered back, handed his empty beer bottle to Flynn and winked at Abby.
“The footage will be on the web within the hour. Should be on the news tonight. You’d better call Matt about the damage. Without a police report you can’t claim insurance.”
Flynn sighed, like it was too much effort, but pulled his phone out of his pocket. A minute later he was talking to Matt.
“You need to come arrest someone,” he said. “The producer just trashed my van.”
There was silence. Then outrage. “What do you mean you thought the noise was me? When are you going to get it through your thick head I’ve turned over a new leaf?”
Mitch and Abby started to laugh.
“No,” Flynn said in answer to whatever Matt said. “We’ll come get her in a wee while. I don’t want her staying at Jonathan’s overnight. His mother will just feed her impressionable mind with more crap about Beckham.”
He turned to Abby. “You don’t want Katy having a sleepover at Jonathan’s house, do you?”
“No. And thanks for asking after you’d already made the decision.”
He ignored her and wound up his conversation with his cousin. Abby grinned at Mitch, who was shaking his head at Flynn.
“You sure you know what you’re doing?” Mitch asked her.
